


gold heart and cold hands

by nightsickness



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Depression, Eating Disorders, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5083054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsickness/pseuds/nightsickness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now he's almost nineteen, and he's getting better. He really is. It's not easy to think about, and it's even worse to say out loud, but he's getting better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gold heart and cold hands

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for not updating for a while. I went to the Orlando show on October 8th and ohmyfuckingGod I miss it. I miss them. I feel kinda weird writing fanfiction about them when I've literally made eye contact with Josh and been two inches away from Tyler.
> 
> Anyways, here's an update for this collection. This one's important to me because it's heavily inspired by my own personal experience. As always, check the tags and stuff, because I triggered myself writing this. Stay safe! xo

Josh never really came to understand how he developed an eating disorder. It wasn't like he just woke up one day and it magically became a part of him that wasn't there the day before. And it wasn't always there, unlike other people staying in the institution with the same problems as him.

He used to talk to people when he had first gotten there, months before Tyler arrived. They all said they knew it was happening before they _really_ knew it. They all agreed that it was always a part of them. One person even said she stole a tape measure from her friend's house and measured her waist every single day from the time she was eight years old.

Josh can't remember being an unhappy child. He had a good childhood - great, even. He would play with his brother and sisters and he would eat _everything_ he wanted, and he can't remember thinking about calories or his weight at all. He thinks his disorder might have been more of a gradual thing. He felt like a fake when he told the others he hadn't always had an eating disorder.

When he was thirteen, his oldest sister called him fat. He could _tell_ she was joking. He could tell because she playfully punched his arm and her eyes crinkled from the smile planted on her face only moments later. But he still cried. And it didn't make it hurt any less. If anything, that made it hurt even more.

The first time he went a whole day without eating, he was fifteen. The hunger started to bloom in his stomach around ten in the morning, and only grew from there. It dissipated hours later, but he ate breakfast the next morning. He told himself it was just a one-time thing, just an experiment to see if he could really last all day without giving in and eating. But he couldn't ignore the feeling of having an empty stomach and finally, _finally_  having control.

By the time he was sixteen, he was losing weight like it was his fucking job. Having a "no, thank you" on his lips and an awful taste in his throat every day came in handy, until it didn't. Until he was eighteen and got busted.

Now he's almost nineteen, and he's getting better. He really is. It's not easy to think about, and it's even worse to say out loud, but he's getting better.


End file.
